


This is Solace

by blasted0glass



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20117704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blasted0glass/pseuds/blasted0glass
Summary: A Witch and an Inquisitor have a conversation. Someone may get burned.





	This is Solace

“Hello, Inquisitor,” she said. “Are you here to grant them permission to burn me?” Frederick’s eyes widened, but only for a moment.

“No. I’m here to help them decide whether you deserve to be burned.” He prayed to God for strength.

The first thing he had noticed about her was her controlled expression. Her situation was dire but that didn’t show on her face. If anything, her countenance was like the iron bars of her cell; harsh but ultimately straightforward. His strategy was to match that countenance. Honesty and directness were his greatest allies.

“Lavender, your fate depends entirely on you. It is never too late to turn toward the Lord.” She continued her icy stare. Frederick wondered if she could possibly know how much was riding on this interaction, but he had been assured that no news could reach her during her imprisonment. “I have already spoken with the Council, and some of the townsfolk. I’d like to hear your version of events.”

“I am surprised that my opinion on the matter is required at all,” she said, putting on an air of clinical disinterest. The Inquisitor sat on the bench opposite her cell, whereas she sat on a tiny wooden stool. That and a mat of straw were her cell’s only furniture.

The shadows on her face were sharp. Diffuse light came in through the grated window behind her, but that wouldn’t have been enough for Frederick to do his work. He had brought a lantern and the light allowed him to see her face clearly.

“Your opinion might afford me a better perspective. Please answer my questions simply, without making excuses. The Lord is the only one who can judge. I am here to understand.”

“Are you attempting to befriend me?” His estimation of her intelligence and the threat she presented went up.

“I may be. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“I suppose not.” There was the matter of her impending execution, he thought. Why make friends with a doomed person? If only she knew. “Go ahead and ask your questions.”

“First: are you a practicing witch?” She grit her teeth.

“No.”

“Please explain the witchcraft materials found at your house.” She didn’t say anything. “Magic circles, books of spells. An arcane implement.”

“That’s not a question.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t, but I nevertheless think there’s an explanation.”

“I’m not inclined to provide one.” They sat in silence for a moment. Frederick sighed.

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”

“Your intent isn’t to help, _ Inquisitor_.” She was entirely wrong.

“Whatever my intent, I’m willing to listen to you for now. God has provided you with one more chance--this is your last chance for salvation, yes, but also your last chance to make an _ ally of any sort_. You should converse with me.” It was also _ his _last chance, and that of the whole city, but he wasn’t yet sure that he wanted her to know that.

“If only God saw fit to send you here sooner than _ two months after my arrest_,” she spat. “Then I could already be chatting with Him personally.”

“My journey was delayed by improbable and immediate concerns, but they have been dealt with. Once again, I am here now.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes. He made a note of it: his strength as an Inquisitor was based on his ability to read others. Unyielding, uncooperating defeat wasn’t acceptable in this circumstance. He briefly considered trying to break her spirit and get listless cooperation, but discarded the thought. He needed an intellectual effort from her, and besides: Councilman Robert had described her as ferociously defiant. Attempts to coerce her wouldn’t do.

“Tell me about the occult diagrams at your residence.”

“I’ll _ try_,” she said with a sneer. He remembered she was someone without control over her own fate--it helped him remain empathetic. “Those things aren’t witchcraft, even though they are related to the occult.”

“I don’t understand what you are saying. ‘The occult’ is another way to refer to witchcraft.”

“Witchcraft is about consorting with the Devil. The occult is just about knowing magic.”

“Magic is inherently associated with the Devil.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s continue without examining that particular matter.”

“It’s an important matter, because the connotation of dealing with the Devil is the Council’s main reason for wanting to execute me.”

“Are you sure it isn’t politically motivated?” Lavender sat back for a moment.

“Well, actually, yes. Of course it is. But they are going to keep mentioning the Devil until they execute me.”

“So the Devil is their rationalization, but not their real reason. How exactly have you been arguing to them that they should spare you?”

Frederick was gratified to see her lose her posture of defiance--the double confusion of the new perspective and his frank honesty was an opening. He went on.

“Let me rephrase my question from earlier. Have you been practicing _ magic_?” She sighed, and her controlled countenance returned. Even so, he wouldn’t give up.

“Yes, I’ve been doing _ magic. _”

“What kind of magic?”

“For curing ailments, and locating misplaced things.” Her eyes flashed, “And setting things on fire.” He knew that.

“You understand why threatening me doesn’t help your case?” She looked away, but then looked back.

“No one dares to enter my cell. I think my knowledge has helped me considerably.”

In his professional opinion, Frederick was actually inclined to agree. It was rare for a witch to have been imprisoned but not subject to any trials. It seemed that she had truly spooked the Council and their guards. Unfortunately for her, the threat of the unknown was a double-edged sword.

Frederick himself was reasonably sure that he knew what he was dealing with. It was time for a risk.

“You may think I’m afraid of your magic, but I’m merely abiding by the Council’s rules.” He stood up and took a step toward her cell.

“You _ should _ be afraid. I could kill you with a touch,” she said.

“Is that so?” He walked forward to place his arm between the bars and offered her his hand. “Go ahead, then.” Cajoling her to murder him would be a sin. He had recently considered the matter at length. However, he knew she couldn’t actually murder him--at the moment.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They’d never let me out if I did.”

“Do you think they’ll let you out if you don’t?” She didn’t respond. She also didn’t move to touch his hand. The necessity of acting like she didn’t want to kill him was another chance, an opportunity to create cognitive dissonance.

A few moments passed.

“Then you don’t have the ability to kill me after all,” he said, not removing his arm. “I think you can’t even do that in principle, never mind in this circumstance. As an Inquisitor, I’m quite familiar with the powers of witches, and death by touch isn’t one of them.”

“I guess you’ll never know the true extent of my power, or my mercy.”

“The first problem is that you’d need an arcane focus if you were going to cast any spells, and you clearly don’t have one.” Her immediate, angry grimace was the outward sign of an inward surprise. “The second problem is that ‘alive’ and ‘dead’ aren’t actually part of a Measure, so there isn’t a spectrum for any spell to work on. ‘Sickness and health’ is close, I suppose, but you said you’d kill me immediately.”

“You know a lot for someone who refuses to ‘consort with the Devil’.” He laughed.

“Understanding doesn’t mean condoning. How about this? I’ll have them bring a rabbit. If you can kill it with a touch, I’ll believe you.” He withdrew his arm and started to walk toward the door. “Of course, if you can, you’ll just be executed as a witch. If you can’t, their fear of you will end and then you will be subjected to much more unpleasant trials.” He paused at the exit, imagining the fury and perhaps terror that would be bubbling up inside her.

Normally at this point he would pretend to leave. A typical person accused of being a witch would capitulate under such a threat. If it didn’t happen immediately then they might relent when he returned. However, Frederick knew Lavender was unlikely to do so at any point. Instead, he turned around and gave her a way out that wouldn’t require her to back down or admit her inability. As he prepared to speak he once again silently prayed.

“However, I do believe that if I were to bring a focus instead--well then you’d be able to burn me alive.”

“Of course I could.” She glared.

“_If I were to bring you a focus_. Actually, I’m counting on that particular ability of yours.”

Genuine confusion started to show through on her face. In a moment, she might realize that she could bargain with him--which was good, because it was true. He needed something from her, and he needed her to be willing to provide it.

However, he had to delay her moment of realization for a bit longer. He continued:

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Council that you need a focus to actually cast spells. I’m truly here to help, Lavender. Tell me what happened, about how you got into this situation. After that, I’ll tell you a way that you might be able to get out of it.”

She examined him. He knew she couldn’t _ really _ trust him--but her life was on the line and this was the only way she might survive. His prayer was that she would see reason.

“Okay,” she said, looking down. Fredrick felt immense relief; both that she was starting to cooperate, and that she had looked away at that particular moment. He knew tension would be leaving his posture, that he would be visibly starting to relax. Even if he tried to hide it, all of God’s children were vulnerable to the same involuntary honesty.

The voluntary kind was much better, he thought.

“My husband,” she said. “He was a merchant, and successful. He traveled constantly. I would watch the shop while he was away, and sell the goods he brought back with him.” Fredrick saw that her face could soften after all. “He had a reputation for being shrewd and demanding, but most people didn’t know what he was really like. He kept bringing back books--they were a gift he always brought for me. It was something he did to show how he was thinking about me while he was away. But he was busy, so he didn’t always have time to read every book himself. I think if he had, he’d have seen the value of magic before I did.”

It was as though a gate had been opened. Frederick let her speak, nodding encouragingly. He considered that she had probably never discussed this with anyone at all, before now.

“Whether he read the books or not, it was something we could talk about when he returned. I read while waiting for customers and while waiting for him to return. He was always so concerned about my wellbeing…” Her anger had gone out.

Lavender was unusual in many respects. Perhaps her defiance grew from her general level knowledge, rather than from anything occult? He suspected not, though: God made his children unique, and that uniqueness allowed for defiant women and compassionate men.

“One day he brought you a book about wit--magic.”

“Yes. Not one book. There were several--but I just read them. We talked about them, of course, but they… didn’t seem real. They were just ideas we could talk about.”

“When did you first cast a spell, then?”

“It wasn’t until after he died,” she said, giving him a sharp look. “You won’t approve. The first one I tried to do was supposed to allow me to speak with him.”

She was right: Frederick didn’t approve--but it made sense. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged.

“It obviously didn’t work. I thought that perhaps I was doing it wrong. That was when I decided to make a deliberate study of magic--if I could figure out why the spell wasn’t working, maybe I could fix it. Of course, now that I know about the Measure and Opposition, I know that the first spell was definitely a fake.”

“Knowledge often leads to disappointment.”

“Not knowing is the same or worse, but without even trying.” He didn’t want to argue.

“That doesn’t explain how you got _ here_,” he said, indicating the prison cell.

“The shop started to run out of goods after my husband died. I would have to acquire more at some point, I knew, but it was easy to put off while I studied. I kept seeing uses for magic. The spell for finding lost things could also be used to track down rare goods, for example. Or rare books on magic. Medicinal tea is more effective with magic behind it--so what if your customers don’t know why it works.”

“You cast spells on people without them knowing?"

“I asked them if they wanted to get better, and when they said yes, I helped them.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“Feel however you like. It was the right thing to do. I think if my husband were still alive, he’d laugh at it… and be proud. He cared about others, as well, though he didn’t often show it.”

“What other spells did you learn?”

“A spell for pushing things. Travel is considerably faster when the cart’s load is lightened.” She paused for a moment. “I almost abandoned my shop for the sea after I discovered that one in particular. Now I kind of wish I had, but I… have a hard time imagining not coming back to this city.”

“I see. But why did you learn the spell of immolation?” Her face darkened.

“I knew it would be useful. Even before I was arrested, I knew that a woman in her own shop isn’t truly safe. A woman on the road is much less so. I think my run-in with Councilman Robert proves that.”

“I wasn’t there. Please, explain,” he said as gently as he could. She gritted her teeth.

“Councilman Robert has a stake in a shop. A rival business. He doesn’t run it, but he owns it. He noticed how well my own business was doing, and suggested a solution.”

“What was that?”

“Well, he was mindful of my status as a widow, and of his own lack of a wife.”

“I see. He proposed to you.”

“Yes, though I didn’t see the business reasons immediately. Even once I figured them out, I was seriously considering his offer. I miss my husband dearly, but…” Frederick waited.

“My husband actually talked to me about the possibility of his death before it happened. He said I should try to be happy. I thought maybe I could be happy with Robert. It’s just that he wanted me to decide too quickly. He came over to the shop every day, and it got overwhelming. When I finally turned him down, he got angry.” She let out a breath. “I was scared. So I scared him back, to get him to leave.”

“You used the immolation spell, but you didn’t burn him directly.”

“I did not. Perhaps I should have.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because murder is wrong? That isn’t something I’d expect to have to tell you, Inquisitor.”

“You could have hurt him without killing him.”

“As if I was thinking that clearly. I didn’t want to actually hurt him anyway.”

“In the moment, you might have made a mistake.”

“How sympathetic. But no, even when I’m scared I try not to hurt people.” Truthfully, you could tell a lot about her from that.

“I take it you’ve never used your magic to kill someone, then.”

“No. On my travels it has always been enough to scare them away.” Her hand covered her face. “Foolish of me to hope the same would work in my own city. Robert saw a different way to get my shop, and they arrested me that night.”

“Or perhaps he acted in fear, and made a mistake of his own?”

“I doubt it.”

“I understand now, or at least, I have a better understanding.” Fredrick wanted to change tact. “I’m curious. Did you ever encounter other witches?” She looked at him sharply, but after a moment her glare lessened.

“I prefer ‘magicians’. And if you’re looking for others to put to trial, you’re out of luck. We always dealt with each other anonymously, just in case we found ourselves in this very situation.”

“Anonymous? How?”

“I’d prefer not to say.” Fredrick wouldn’t push it, especially since he already had an idea. Written notes could be left at a specific location--a ‘place of power’, in the wilderness. Exchanges would take place over months and years. The locations would be hard to set traps in, or approach without being seen. A meeting wouldn’t take place until a reasonable level of trust had been established.

"So you didn't have many direct dealings with... other magicians."

“I tried to deal with them as little as possible,” she said, “Beyond buying books.”

“Why?”

“Just in case one was an Inquisitor in disguise! Or in case one of my acquaintances was found out. You can’t betray the identities of people you don’t know.” Her anger threatened to return.

“That’s fair. Lavender, I don’t want to know any specifics about your acquaintances. If God wants me to speak with them, he’ll arrange it, like he arranged for me to speak with you.” She scowled. “I want to know about you, and to ask for your help.”

“That’s what confuses me. What do_ you _ need from _ me_?” He took a deep breath.

“I need you to teach me the spell of immolation.”

“What? That makes less than no--you aren’t going to burn _ witches _ with it, are you?!”

“Of course not.”

“Then why?” Frederick sighed. This was the hardest and the easiest part of honesty: reciprocating.

“Have you heard of King Hammond’s army?”

“Yes, well. I know about the exploratory marches he has been making. Did he finally decide to invade?”

“Finally?”

“I sort of expected it at some point. That he would take some border cities, demand concessions. Don’t look at me like that, a traveling merchant needs to be aware.”

“Well, he did decide to invade. About six weeks ago.”

“What? Oh my God,” she said, and he winced. “They could have gotten--they could be---”

“The city is under siege, Lavender. He made his offer yesterday.”

“No...” she whispered.

“Do you know how Hammond claims cities?”

“I do,” she said. “He offers the option of surrender. If it is accepted, he’ll kill half the men, and ransack the town. The women and children…” she did not continue. “The option to fight is strictly worse, though, because in that case he just kills everyone.” Frederick nodded.

“Since he made the offer yesterday, we have until sundown tonight to respond. Until then, his army will wait outside the city walls.” He gave her a few moments to digest the news. To his astonishment, she started to cry. “Why do you weep only now?”

“This is my city as well. Even if I were doomed, even if the Council decided to execute me--!” He didn’t ask anything more as she quietly wept.

Finally, she grew still. “Why are you here?“ she asked. Frederick smiled sadly.

“I’m doing God’s work, and He is above the movements of men. When I was summoned to hear your case, I came.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I’ve been accused of that before.”

“If only you’d been here two months ago, then you could have already left!”

“About that. I think the time I arrived, and the time you were caught, are no coincidence.”

“What do you--” Suddenly she understood, or almost. “You want to use my spell to immolate King Hammond!” He nodded. “There are so many problems with that. If you murder someone, you’ll go to hell!”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not,” he said. “That is for God to decide.”

“Surely God would prefer half of the city to die, and one more soul to be saved?”

“I don’t think we can say with certainty what God prefers, but your appraisal is reasonable. I found myself thinking: how many lives will be cut short? How many of those people will die before having a chance to repent? I also considered the coincidences in my affairs that brought me here. Then, I thought about how to do the _ most good _ with my situation.”

“That’s a dangerous way of thinking,” she said.

“Indeed. Even so.”

“Do you think killing King Hammond will be enough?”

“I’m not certain--but I am certain that everyone, even King Hammond, has good in their hearts. Truthfully I wish I could turn them back without bloodshed. I imagine his army wants to stop their advance, and just needs a reason.” She didn’t respond. “His methods are uncommonly brutal; if he dies, I expect his army to falter for a while or retreat entirely.”

“I don’t know. I also don’t understand. Why don’t you ask me to do it?”

“I would not condemn you to hell. If I’m wrong about God’s will, it is my responsibility.” He had been preparing for this moment. “Lavender, God is gracious, and God is merciful. He sees your pain and feels it as his own. The Council will vote to execute you, but the city need not be lost as well. Tell me how to cast the spell of immolation, and I will defend the city by killing King Hammond and breaking the will of his army. If you repent I am certain that the merciful God will allow you to be reunited with your husband in Heaven.”

She inhaled sharply. “My husband had a reputation for being a stubborn man, but he didn’t deserve it. Is it stubborn to be unmoved by idiotic calls to loyalty, by insistently repeated mistakes?” A hiccup. “And yet he was the most loyal of all, to this city and to me. He just demanded reason, actual reasons for things, and then he’d relent.” She wiped her face. “He was known as a hard man, but he was gentle with me. He listened to me.”

“You should do as your husband would.”

“As my husband would…” She was no longer crying. “He would probably sacrifice himself to save the city.”

“God bless his soul.”

“But he would also tell me to stand on my own convictions. The council is foolish and full of bullies.” She stood and pointed, her voice rising to a scream. “You tell them this: your fate is in your own hands now! This is solace: if they are getting rid of me, they will get what they deserve!”

Frederick had backed away to the door. “Lavender, you--”

“They should rejoice, it’s so rare that God’s retribution is this predictable! Tell them they have to confer to forgive me, or they will all die! And you are a damn fool. Do you think I could teach such a powerful spell to a novice who has _ literally never used magic before? _ Get out of my sight!”

She turned to face the wall and did not turn back. Frederick’s words had absolutely no effect on her after that. He left the room in defeat.

\---

He considered telling the council that she was basically a normal woman, that all of her magical power hinged on a spell she couldn’t cast without an artifact. Then they might have descended upon her cell to torture her until she revealed her secrets.

He also could have mentioned that her magical might was limited, and that even if they made use of her she could be forced to return to her cell afterward. They might have decided to try that, in lieu of torture. Frederick had no idea how much damage she could do when they revealed their betrayal, but it was bound to be less than King Hammond.

As it happened, however, he didn’t have to do any of these things. The Council relented, unanimously. Banishment would serve instead of death, and God would judge her soul in due time.

That solution allowed the city to be saved, but Frederick noted that it also allowed her shop to be confiscated.

Lavender was not a fool. She accepted their terms.

\---

Lavender was let out of her cell. A guard escorted her to her shop in the city. It had been disturbed very little. No one would dare ransack the house of a witch, lest the rumors subsequently cast suspicion on them as well. The home was also protected by its location: it was in the middle of the city, so anyone entering it would be seen.

From her home she retrieved her artifact. It was a very old grimoire. Frederick did not look at it closely. Although he believed she was basically innocent, he was mindful of compulsions--the Devil might be involved after all.

They waited atop the wall. In addition to Lavender and Frederick, there was Councilman Christoph and his guards. The other Councilmen had claimed other duties.

An advance party from the invading force approached, presumably to check if the gates would be open. A thousand yards away was the column of invaders. Frederick could see their general, King Hammond, sitting atop his horse. The King wouldn’t approach the city personally.

“Will you be able to hit the King?” asked Frederick.

“I’ll be able to hit the man on the horse over there. It might not be King Hammond,” said Lavender.

“Are you certain you can do it?”

“I tested the spell thoroughly after I learned it. It is line of sight. I could do it right now.”

“Don’t use your spell until I’ve had a chance to talk with them.”

“Do you think you can avoid a single necessary death? Ever the merciful Inquisitor.” She shaded her eyes with her hand. He thought that even the fading sunlight would be good for her, but she was so pale he had to admit a risk of sunburn.

“What causes your mirth?” asked Cristoph.

“Nothing relevant. Yes, it would be better not to kill any of them, but I don’t think that is an option now. It’s just that if they don’t understand what is happening, your display won’t be as effective.”

“Very well.” Lavender stood back from the edge of the parapet, so that she would not be visible from the road.

“Were your witchcraft powerful enough, I’d suggest you burn them all,” said Cristoph. Both Lavender and Frederick remained silent.

The advance party drew up to the gate, and Frederick shouted.

“‘Lo, travelers.”

“‘Lo! We are the envoy of King Hammond. We are here for tribute, as discussed two days past.”

“I am sorry to disappoint, but there is no tribute here. God has seen your plundering and dishonesty. He has instructed us to resist.”

Frederick heard the head of the envoy sigh, even from atop the wall. “You’ll be defeated with certainty. God does not support you, nor anyone in these lands.”

“He supports us, even now,” Frederick said. “We are to look for His sign, and to tell you to look as well. Watch Him destroy your army should you ignore His warnings.” He gave Lavender the signal, and she began to read from her grimoire.

“Praytell, what sign is that?” The captain of the envoy looked to his second in command, then back up at the city wall. “Will the sign only appear after we’ve cracked this fortress like an egg? And where was the sign when we broke your neighbors, and their neighbors before? My curiosity grows, holy man.” Lavender lifted her head briefly. Frederick shivered--a chill had passed through him when she looked out at the distant King.

“Behold!” said the Inquisitor. There was the faint sound of shouting, and smoke began to rise from the center of the column. The heads of the entire envoy turned. “God’s sign to stay away!”

King Hammond, or the poor fool occupying his position, had burst into flame. Some of the screaming must have been his own. Part of his army was scattering, but his lieutenants were attempting to restore order.

Without a word, the advance party turned and left. Frederick spoke to Lavender as they retreated.

“Immolate anyone who approaches.” She nodded slowly, and he noticed she had begun to sweat. “I imagine they will retreat, though.”

“Do you really think that they’ll believe it was God’s work?” asked Cristoph.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as they believe there’s a chance they’ll burn.” Fredrick turned to him. “And it _ was _ God’s work.”

Cristoph spoke to Lavender. “I think it is unwise to send you away.” Her eyes, which had already squinted in the setting sun, narrowed further. “I wish I could persuade the rest of the Council otherwise.”

“I don’t think I would remain here even if it were an option,” she said sadly. “The townsfolk probably don’t trust me any more.” Fredrick noticed her hands were shaking.

“Fair enough.”

“It’s risky, but I think we should send out guards with lanterns. I need to be able to see my targets.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“You could join the Sisters in the City of Marble,” Frederick said. “I am returning there myself, God willing.”

“The Sisters!” said Cristoph. “Would they accept a witch?”

“She isn’t a witch. She is a magician.” He saw how the immolation had affected her. Frederick wished she could be at ease, but that wasn’t possible for someone who had just taken a human life for the first time.

“I see no difference.”

“I'll consider it,” Lavender said.

“They have a library.”

“I doubt any of the books there would appeal to me.”

“Then you’re underestimating the number of books. It is at least several thousand, and with contacts who have several thousand more. I dare say they even have books on magic.”

“Well, I’ll travel there with you in any case,” Lavender said. “I’ve nowhere else to go. That’s assuming I’m not cast out tomorrow, at first convenience.”

“Don’t worry,” said Cristoph. “We’ll keep you right here, until the danger has passed.”

“Although,” added Frederick, “You may have to make your own way to Marble. I have other business to attend to first.”

“Woe upon any bandit that meets me upon the road,” said Lavender. Her voice trembled slightly.

“Or you could come with me, if it suits you. It would probably make my travels more comfortable.”

“Because I can immolate anyone who threatens you?”

He shook his head. “Quite the opposite: it's because you wouldn’t immolate _ anyone_, if there were a better option.”

She only nodded, watching the road.


End file.
